


Blood on the Rooftops

by SegaBarrett



Category: The Godfather (1972 1974 1990), The Godfather - Mario Puzo
Genre: Brother-Sister Relationships, Brother/Sister Incest, Domestic Violence, F/M, Pregnant Sex, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-16
Updated: 2016-08-16
Packaged: 2018-08-09 02:06:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7782694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SegaBarrett/pseuds/SegaBarrett
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Connie has run to her only place of safety.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blood on the Rooftops

**Author's Note:**

  * For [skazka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/skazka/gifts).



> Disclaimer: I don't own "The Godfather", and I make no money from this.
> 
> A/N: Beta-ed by Chaosprincess - thank you! :)

_“Better in my day - Oh Lord!_  
For when we got bored, we'd have a world war, happy but poor -  
So let's skip the news boy - I'll go make that tea…  
Blood on the rooftops - too much for me,  
When old Mother Goose stops - they're out for 23…” 

\- Genesis, “Blood on the Rooftops”

\-----

If Connie Corleone-Rizzi thought a lot about certain things, she would nearly go crazy with fury. In her mind’s eye, she could picture tearing the whole house – Carlo’s house, damn him – apart and strewing the remnants every-which-where because none of it _meant_ anything. 

Why had she allowed herself to get pulled into this mess? Once upon a time, she’d been…well, kind of pampered really. She had been beautiful and demure, and no one had wanted to tell her no and especially not to be cruel to her.

She’d been Sonny’s little sister – Fredo’s and Michael’s too of course, but that hadn’t really been the same.

And now she was Carlo’s wife. That was what she was supposed to be, at least. She had thrown on the dress and danced and worn the ring, everything that was expected of her, and she had expected to feel it, too.

But she felt nothing but rage. 

She had given it all away, in a second. In an “I do”.

She had gotten the phone call, the nerve of that woman – not even to hide it! She knew that men did things like that – even Sonny did, and Sonny was damn near perfect – but to give this woman their home number and let her call like this? What in the hell had her husband told this woman about Connie?

What kind of a woman did this floozy take her for? 

She threw her hands up in the air.

She didn’t have to take this. At her core, she was a Corleone, not a Rizzi. And she would show Carlo what that meant.

***

Why had she done it? Why had she flown off the handle at Carlo? Maybe it hadn’t even been worth it. And yet… to sit in silence would have been so much worse.  
Now, she watched her long legs hanging off of the bed and smiled sadly. It had taken some doing to even be able to see her feet, these days, but there they were.  
And it seemed like Sonny didn’t mind at all. 

If he’d stop pacing, that was. Sonny was livid, at Carlo, and it’d been anything Connie could do to stop him from killing her husband.

Even if, as she sat here now, in a secret apartment of Sonny’s, part of her didn’t know why she was bothering. Carlo had seemed kind at first, and the wedding had been a fairy tale, everything she’d ever dreamed of… but now…

What would that mean for her, though, if Sonny couldn’t be held back? 

It wasn’t as if she could allow herself to hate him, even if he did it. Maybe she would try, and maybe she would act that way at first, but the mere thought seemed impossible.

“I’m trying very hard to be calm right now, Connie,” Sonny said in a voice that was nothing close to calm. “But he’s making it very hard. If you hadn’t pulled me in here… You know what I would be doing right now.”

She pulled her hair with her hand. Yes, she knew. 

“Sonny, please. It was just… I provoked him, I…”

“I’m going to stop you right there, Connie. Because whatever you’re gonna say, it might make it sound better to you, but it’s only sounding worse to me. Because the Connie I know wouldn’t say that.”

She pushed herself off the bed and wobbled into a standing position.

“Maybe I’ve changed. Maybe you shouldn’t take me for granted. That I’m going to be the same old Connie whenever you wanna come around.”

Sonny shook his head and puts his hands on her shoulders.

“I would never take you for granted. But you should sit down – all this with Carlo and the baby too... You need to take it easy, okay?”

“I’ll sit down if you sit down with me.” Despite it all, Connie’s lip curled into a smile. 

Sonny took a seat at the other edge of the bed with a sigh. 

“This isn’t just going to go away, you know. People never change.”

“Oh… You mean like you?” Connie reached up to play with her hair. Funny, how in Sonny’s presence she could feel sexy even now, even when she hadn’t in so long. She reached out to touch his chin, even as she chided herself on how silly and ridiculous it all was. “Running around with every girl under the sun?”

“Every girl, now?”

“Lucy Mancini?”

Sonny put an arm on her shoulder.

“Well, she’s your best friend. Maybe I just wanted to be close to you.” He placed a gentle kiss on Connie’s cheek and she could feel her body, and resolve, melting away. 

Carlo seemed a million miles away, and somehow, he always had been, even when she’d first met him.

“Maybe I did the same thing,” she mused, “I mean… Carlo was your friend at first.”

Sonny screwed up his face. She could see his vein pumping in his forehead, and for the first time tonight, she felt a rush. He was furious, for her. On fire, for her.

And then he reached out, grabbed her shoulders, and shoved his tongue into her mouth. 

Connie thought she was going to stop breathing, that she was going to fall on the couch and have to be resuscitated (by Sonny, too, in her mind, always by Sonny). 

She had closed her eyes and wished for this for so long, to have him back in her arms again.

She had been eighteen years old, maybe a day or a week past, the first time she and Sonny had been together. And she’d been nineteen when he’d tried to “save” her by introducing her to Carlo.

As she lowered herself down against the couch, she realized with a resounding scream in her head how mad she had been at him for that. She hadn’t needed to be saved, not from Sonny.

Only by Sonny. 

She reached out and gave a bitter swipe with her nails against his beautiful face.

“Don’t you dare go anywhere…”

He squeezed her hand. 

Trying to talk Sonny out of what he wanted to do was something that was damn near impossible.

“I need to keep you safe.”

Connie shut her eyes a moment. She remembered her own thoughts – who would purposely call the house and ask for her husband so blatantly?

Unless – unless Carlo had told her to do it. If it had all been a set-up. Carlo’s bitter retaliation after Sonny had beat him within an inch of his life. He probably had some plan to get Sonny back, to have him beaten up by his own people or… or worse.

Far worse.

A shiver began in Connie’s toes, but she shook it off. Sonny was here, and he was safe. He was never leaving.

“And I need to keep you safe, too,” was what she whispered, “So you can’t run after Carlo.”

Sonny pressed his lips against hers again, and she let out a little whine.

“Don’t kiss me to shut me up, Sonny. You have… to listen to me. It’s him… It’s all…”

Sonny kissed her again.

“I’ll stay safe,” he promised in between breaths, “But only if you’re safe, too. I’m not going to send you home with him.”

Connie let out a frustrated grunt and shoved Sonny away.

“Okay, then. Where do I go? I can’t go home. No one can interfere. I belong to Carlo, now. It’s all up to him, now.” She let out a snort that turned into a stifled sob. “I can’t stay here forever. I’m going to have a baby, Sonny. I have to go home sometime. Thanks, though.”

Sonny flew up on to his feet, standing and pacing again. Connie watched as he lunged at the wall, nearly hitting it.

Part of her wanted to flinch, but she didn’t. 

Finally, he stopped, leaning against the wall and letting his eyes look directly at hers.

“What if you didn’t?”

“…Didn’t what?”

“Have to go home?”

She laughed, surprised. 

“What, now?”

He walked over to her, looking her up and down as if seeing his younger sister for the first time. She blushed; she wasn’t particularly known as a great beauty, and if she hadn’t known it before, Carlo mentioned it often enough. But somehow Sonny had always made her feel… there wasn’t really a word for it. Something like the feeling one would get having their hand just close enough to a candle to be warmed, but not quite close enough to be burned.

Maybe now, she was ready for the burning, no, no she shouldn’t think like that. Not now, not ever.

“What if we left, together? What if we went somewhere no one knew who we were? You remember, people always used to joke that I didn’t look like the rest of us?”

Connie made a small smile.

“Because you were so fair and we were so dark.” She reached up to run her fingers through Sonny’s soft, curly hair. It was dark, too, but she still saw it. “I always wished that I looked more like you, you know. But… what are you talking about, anyway? Run away?” She shook her head. “Who else would run the business? He needs you.”

“And I need you, Constanzia.”

She giggled, then turned serious.

“Don’t… We can’t. And you’re forgetting, I’m having a baby in, what, a month? We could run, but we wouldn’t get very far.”

“We could say the kid was mine. I’ll get you a ring… People won’t question it.”

“What would we do?” Connie sighed. “We can’t. It’s impossible. You belong here. I belong here. We’re Corleones. It’s… it’s who we’re meant to be. For you, at least.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Connie brushed away a tear that was threatening to slip down her cheek.

“You get to be… somebody. I get to play dress-up.”

Sonny shook his head.

“I get to pretend to be somebody. At the end of the day… you always will be somebody. You have to see that, right?”

She shook her head.

“I’m sitting here with you ‘cause I’m too afraid to even go home to my own husband. How’s that being somebody? And I think…” She sucked in a breath, too worried to say her own suspicions, lest they be true. “Just… please don’t play into his hand, Sonny. Just… in case. I don’t know what I’d do if I ever lost you. I would be lost. I would give up.”

“Shh. No more talk like that.” Sonny leaned in, kissing her again, soft and sweet and then rough and wanting. 

She thought back to being sixteen and the times she’d caught Sonny, shirtless, through a crack in the door. How she had never said anything, but that she had felt things she hadn’t understood. How she had told herself it would all go away, once she found “the one”. 

How it hadn’t gone away but had only gotten stronger, especially when he had felt it too.

“Sonny,” she whispered, wanting to tell him again that they couldn’t, that they shouldn’t, everything it would mean to do this again, even worse now that she was married and no one should interfere with…

She shut her eyes, and then she thought it, just a burst up her leg and right into the place she needed it most.

 _Fuck_ Carlo.

She pushed herself back on the couch and slowly pulled up her dress.

“I don’t want to hurt…” Sonny started, and now it was her time to shush him. She reached out and placed a gentle finger over his mouth.

“You won’t. Just be careful on the back.”

She spread her legs wide and wriggled out of her slip, girdle and underwear (why did there have to be so many garments between her and Sonny, she wondered). 

“Are you sure?”

Connie’s eyes went wider.

“Sonny, shut up and just do it… What is it? Now that I’m pregnant, no love for your little sister?”

Carlo’s words came back in her head – “You’re all murderers”, hadn’t that been what he said? “Even the female Corleones…” 

_Fuck him,_ she thought again, more vehemently. _Maybe I am, maybe he just doesn’t know yet._

“Don’t say something like that, Connie… You know that’s not true. We just have to be careful… On your side, okay?”

She followed his instructions, pushing her hair off to the side and out of the way. She pulled up her dress again.

“Do it,” she whispered. 

She shut her eyes and breathed in deep, feeling as Sonny climbed on to the couch beside her and guided himself inside.

It seemed as if he had always been there. Maybe he had been that twin she had never known. 

“Sonny,” she gasped, guiding her lips to his neck. Her eyes were still closed; she knew she could always find him in the dark.

It was a tight fit – not like the first time had been, though. When had she gotten to be an old pro at this? Had there been something magical (if painful) in that first time, at eighteen, that she would never get back again?

He pulled out and thrust in again, careful and gentle (she could feel every inch – if the girls who’d been giggling at her wedding about his legendary size had only known, she thought). She gripped his shoulders and rode with him, clung to him.

She was never going to let him go… 

But she had to, she knew.

***

At some point, she had managed to pull all of her clothes back on. It was like putting on a mask after being allowed to breathe free for hours. 

“Sandra’s probably wondering where you are. You should go home.”

She didn’t want Sonny to watch her crying, and she could tell it was coming on.

Sonny shrugged.

“She knows I always come home.”

“Yeah, except for when you’re threatening to run off with me.” She paused and swallowed. “It’d be something, though, wouldn’t it? You wouldn’t really want to, though. I’d be the worst to live with.”

“Try me.”

“I smashed all the dishes all over the floor. That’s what got Carlo so mad.” She wished she hadn’t said his name. It made him real all over again.

Sonny reached out and took her hand in his.

“Smash ‘em all. We’ll buy more.”

“I’m a spoiled brat.”

“Let me spoil you, then.”

“Sonny… It could never work. Not really. People… find out about things like this.”

“Then let them find out.”

She shook her head and stood up.

“I should get home.” She brushed her hands on her dress. “He’s probably home again, now. Probably wondering where I went. And when I’m gonna clean up the dishes.”

“He can clean ‘em up himself. With his face,” Sonny started, and Connie put up her hand.

“Don’t take the bait, Sonny. I’ll be fine. As long as nothing happens to you, I’ll be fine. Maybe we can… again. Sometime, you know?”

Sonny gathered her to him and held her tight.

“I’ll check up on you.”

She nodded.

“Maybe it’ll get better,” she said, but she knew the words were empty. The only thing she wanted in the world was the thing she couldn’t have. Not for good.

And at home, Carlo was waiting. 

The thought would have filled her with dread, sometimes, or hope – but now, it was nothing.

“Next week, I’ll meet you here,” she told Sonny, and now that – that was something. Something to hold on to. Everything else was just fog. And Sonny, like his name, was the sun shining through.


End file.
